


Howl

by orphan_account



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Howl's Moving Castle Fusion, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:07:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22414474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: It's a loosely based Howl's Moving Castle au. What more do you want from me?
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, past Geralt/Yennefer - Relationship
Comments: 5
Kudos: 31





	Howl

Jaskier was sat at his father’s desk, as he was most days now since his death. The wooden seat was worn, though from a man much larger than he, and Jaskier usually found his back aching after only a few hours. It probably did not help how he hunched over the papers, his form falling as he read another land dispute, or how some farmer’s crops were coming in poorly. He felt like the candle that burned next to him, only a thimbles worth of wax left when it had been new this morning. He let out a weary sigh, and leaned back in his chair, resting his eyes for just a moment. 

The wooden door to the room swung open, and Jaskier jolted. In its frame stood one of his younger sisters, Hemala. She had a bright smile on her face, and was dressed in one of her nicest outfits. Jaskier watched as some of his other sisters bustled behind her, tying laces, and polishing necklaces. 

“Jaskier, we’re going into town. You should join us! Elodie says Markhams just got in a whole supply of coats from Novigrad and they’re absolutely stunning!” Her voice drops to a mock whisper and she glances a conspiratorial look around the empty room. “They also say there’s a Witcher in town, come to take care of a wraith at the old church. We’re hoping to catch a glimpse of him!” Jaskier smiled fondly at his sister before frowning over at the stack of letters and ledgers that still lay in front of him. 

“I’m sorry Hem, I’d love to, truly, but I need to get these done.” Hemala’s face fell and her eyebrows knit together. 

“You can take a break, Jaskier. Just for a moment. The village won’t burn down if you take an hour or two for yourself.” Her voice was quiet, but coarse. 

“Next time, Hem. I promise. Harvest is soon and I need to get this done.” He watched her hand tighten on the door knob. 

“You always say that. You’ll burn yourself out. Just like Da.” She turns, face falling to the floor and steps out, pulling the door slowly shut behind her. Jaskier couldn’t help the frustrated groan he let out. How dare she bring up their father like that. Besides, didn’t she know it was his work as Viscount that let them all go out and buy pretty clothes? Kept them feed? Jaskier sat there fuming for some time, until he heard the noise from the hall quiet, and the heavy clunk of their front door signalling his sisters departure. The candle beside him flickered out. Maybe Hemala was right. He could take a break, just for a moment. Making the short walk to his room he pulled out the case for his lute, running a finger through the thin layer of dust that was collecting on the top. Surely it hadn’t been so long since he’d played? 

He sat for some time, idly plucking away at the strings, no real song coming to mind. He’d try out a few lines, writing down the few good ones in his notebook, but nothing really stuck. It felt good though, to take a moment and just play. The moment was ruined by the sharp crack of one of his strings snapping in two. Great, absolutely terrific. He rustles through the pocket on his case, finding the envelope where he keeps his spare strings. Turning it over he found it empty. Well, this was going to bother him into next week if he didn’t get it fixed. Jaskier told himself this wasn’t an excuse to get away from his work, to get away from that horrible chair. His lute was important to him, his father would understand. He had tasted respite and found himself hungry for more. He slung the lute over his back and clad himself in a robin’s egg blue doublet that really hadn’t seen the sun in quite some time. Shani always said it brought out his eyes and he didn’t look completely ridiculous in it, unlike some of his more ostentatious outfits. If he was going all the way into town he should really make a point of seeing her too. 

Stepping out into the cool fall air, Jaskier breathed in deeply. Hemala was right, he’d been stuck inside for too long. His sister’s hadn’t even left that long ago, maybe he would be able to catch up with them if he went quick enough.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jaskier could hear the city before he even saw it and entering through its gates he saw why. Knights were marching through the streets, some riding atop armored horses. The red eagle flag of Redania hung from windows and were being waved by the cheering crowd of citizens watching the army’s parade. The war had not yet reached this far North, and spirits were high about their success. Avoiding the crowd and fanfare Jaskier slipped into a back alley that was blessedly empty. 

He was too busy counting the coin in his bag that he didn’t notice the two knights step out in front of him. They collided and Jaskier let out a quick “Oh, sorry” that turned into a startled yelp when one grabbed him by the back of his collar, stopping him in his tracks. 

“Well well well, what do we have here? A little songbird that’s fallen from its nest?” the one man teases. “Perhaps he could sing us a song.”

“I can think of something else that pretty mouth of his could do.” chuckled the other, crowding into Jaskier’s space. 

“Ah, really you two I must be going, someone’s expecting me and-” Jaskier’s eyes darted around and he wiggled out of the one knight’s firm grasp, aiming to make his escape. 

“Oh come on, Armin. You’re scaring the poor thing!” laughed the first. They pushed forward, causing Jaskier to stumble backwards, feet tripping on the uneven cobblestone. He is caught by a wide set of hands on his shoulders and a broad chest pressed against his back. Jaskier yelps, and turns his head, expecting to see another knight.

Instead his eyes meet yellow feline ones. The Witcher. Jaskier decides this is much worse than a couple of randy soldiers. The Witcher smiles down at him, the expression somewhat pained, and his one hand drops as he shifts to drape an arm over Jaskier’s shoulders. 

“There you are.” he says, and his voice is deep and gravelly. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” The one knight stalks closer, but the other stays back, casting a nervous look between the Witcher and his partner. 

“Hey, we’re busy here!” the knight shouts, hand going to his sword. Jaskier sees the Witcher’s other hand shift and for a moment he is terrified the Witcher will draw his own and kill this man right in front of him. Instead his arm comes out in front of them, the Witcher’s fingers forming a series of gestures before a soft yellow light emanated and Jaskier heard him whisper “Axii” close to his ear.

“Actually I think the two of you were just leaving.” the Witcher says and the closer knight stands up straight, his eyes glassy.

“I...um. Yes. We were.” He turns, walking back towards the mouth of the alley. The other knight, stares at him mouth agape. 

“Wirt where... where are you going?” he shoots one last look back at the Witcher, adam’s apple bobbing nervously, before he follows after the other. 

Jaskier slips from the Witcher’s grasp, turning to face him fully. “Just what in the hell was that?” The Witcher glares at him. Right, yelling at a Witcher, probably not the smartest move.

“Just a bit of handy magic.” He stalks forward and takes Jaskier by the shoulder again, pushing him bodily forward. “Where to? I’ll be your escort.” 

“Wha-What? I don’t need an escort thank you! I can handle myself just fine!” Jaskier protested, trying to break from the Witcher’s hold, but it was decidedly stronger than the knights. 

“Hmm.” the Witcher hummed. “It sure looked like it.” The Witcher drops his mouth to ghost over Jaskier’s ear, his voice a grated whisper. “I’m being followed. Keep moving.” Jaskier gulped, his face heating. He turned away, both to escape the Witcher’s breath and glance nervously behind them. For a moment he swore he saw one of the shadows shudder. 

“If you must know I’m headed to the apothecary to see my friend, she’s a doctor there.” The Witcher lets out another small hum of acknowledgement, but doesn’t say anything further. They weave quickly through the back streets and Jaskier, not one for silence, wonders aloud “Do you know where we’re going?” 

The Witcher does not offer him a response. 

“Right, right, not a big talker then. You could be leading me to some secluded area only to slit my throat and I would have no idea! Not sure why you would bother to rescue me then, but such is the whimsy of fate. I am to become a beautiful corpse, found by a lost drunk.” he bemoans.

“Shut up.” the Witcher growls. 

“Shutting up. Though I do want you to know I will be quite the screamer when you kill me, I refuse to go quietly and - oh, we’re here!” The alley opens up to the main street, and on the other side sits Shani’s shop. The window displays an eclectic mix of potions, herbs and medicine. 

The Witcher takes him right to the front door, before dropping his hand from Jaskier’s shoulder. He looks back towards the mouth of the alley and frowns. “I’m going to draw them away. Wait a bit before coming outside. And stick to the main roads.” He emphasizes the last instruction with a strong jab to Jaskier’s sternum. Before Jaskier can offer up a response he turns, and makes his way back into the cities depths. 

His attention is drawn away when he hears the bell sound from the door behind him and Shani bursts forth from inside. “Jaskier is that you? You finally decide to pay your friend a visit and you’re accompanied by a Witcher no less!” Her words are quick and she smacks him across the back of the head. 

“Ow! While I do deserve that, it doesn’t mean you have to!” he grumbles, rubbing at the throbbing spot. 

“Oh shut up and get inside, you’re going to tell me everything!” And so Jaskier does. Shani listens as he recounts the rather brief meeting with the knights as she grinds herbs at the counter, Jaskier reclines in a stool nearby, mindlessly stroking her old gray mouser cat. He finishes and Shani turns to him.

“If he used magic he must be a Witcher then. I would’ve shat myself, those mutants are scary things.” 

Jaskier frowns, hand stilling as it scratched between the cat’s ears. “But he was kind to me, Shani. He rescued me.”

“Well of course he did! He probably wanted your money! That’s all Witcher’s care about!” Her words are rhythmic, in time with the twist of her arm as she pounds the herbs into a paste. Their smell fills the air. “You’re lucky. If that Witcher were Geralt of Rivia, he probably would’ve cut you down right there alongside those knights.”

Jaskier knew the horror stories of the Witcher Geralt all too well. He often heard them in bars over drinks, drawn to hear the stories of those from far away. People loved to tell the bloody ones, of monsters and murder. Of Witchers. He knew all too well what the Butcher of Blaviken could do.

“I’m fine, Shani. And besides, Geralt kills princesses, of which I am not.”

Shani let’s out a snort. “You’re a viscount, I’m sure that’s close enough.” Jaskier looks up when he hears the grinding of the mortar and pestle stop. Shani is looking at him, her expression soft and sad. 

“Are you really going to waste away in that manor of yours, counting taxes and settling disputes over stolen cattle?”

Jaskier looks at the sunlight filtering through the array of bottles in the window, unable to meet her gaze. “It’s fine. I don’t mind. Besides, I’m the eldest and it’s what father wanted.”

He jumps as Shani’s fist slams onto the wooden table next to him, forcing him to look her in the eyes. “I don’t care what your damn father wanted, Jaskier!” she yelled. “I want to know what you want!” Her voice cracks and she took his hands in hers. “It’s your life, Jaskier. Do something for yourself, for once.” 

Jaskier stood quickly, knocking the cat from his lap. He pulled his hands from Shani’s. “I best be going. Really a lot of work to do.” and he makes his way to leave. His hand is on the door knob when Shani speaks up behind him. 

“Jaskier.” He does not turn. He hears her sigh. “Be safe out there. There’s a war going on and this town is crawling with monsters, both human and not. I heard the king even requested a witch.”

“You stay safe too, Shani. I’ll see you again. Soon. I promise.” The bell rings as he leaves.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jaskier closes his front door behind him and sags against it. He lets out a loud groan as he realizes he forgot to even buy the stupid lute string. Pulling himself up he makes towards his room when he hears a knock behind him. Odd. They weren’t expecting anyone and his sisters would just let themselves right in. He ignores it, turning once more to the stairs leading up when he hears the door scrape open behind him. 

“I’m sorry, you really can’t just barge into other people’s homes!” he shouts out, stepping toward the figure standing in the doorway. It’s a woman, she’s beautiful. Her long, dark hair cascades over her shoulders in soft waves. She’s dressed in a beautifully ornate travelling coat with black fur trim and emerald green riding gloves peaking out from it’s belled sleeves. In the light Jaskier swears her eyes are purple. 

“Sorry.” she says, and her voice is just as beautiful as the rest of her. “I’ve been travelling for days and just thought I would rest here for the night.” She steps further into the room.

“Um...no? You can’t just waltz in here and demand room and board for the night? That’s not how any of this works? Town is just a few miles further down the road, the inns have plenty of room and are actually oh, I don’t know? Made to house strangers for the night!” Jaskier had tried to remain calm, but his voice raised in irritation and he gestured wildly.

The woman’s beautiful face turned dark, and Jaskier’s jaw clicked shut. “Standing up to a witch, that’s plucky.” Oh gods, she was a witch. Of course she was a witch! What normal person looked like that or wore a dress so low cut while out travelling if not a witch? This is it, Jaskier had escaped death once today and now it had returned for him. 

The witch raised a hand to him, a bright flash and loud ringing caused Jaskier to double over and shield himself. He did not open his eyes again until long after the ringing had stopped. From where he was on the floor he peered over to the doorway, only to find it empty. He braced himself, getting up onto his hands and knees, though the process caused him to ache. Taking a moment to catch his breath he looked down at his hands splayed out over the floor and his heart leapt into his throat. His fingers were wide, liver spots and wrinkles covered the expanse of skin. What had that witch done?

Jaskier’s body shook as he slowly stood, everything hurt, worse than his back ever had, even on the days when he was filling out forms long into the night. Slowly, Jaskier made his way over to the ornate mirror that decorated their foyer. Staring back at him were his eyes, but the rest of him was markedly changed. His skin sagged and drooped over a bony face. Deep wrinkles formed under his eyes and around his mouth. His hair was a wispy gray and his once slender frame was stooped and fat. 

Oh gods, that witch made him old.

**Author's Note:**

> Oh boy this is going to be the longest work of fiction I've ever written and I hope you stick around. Updates should come fairly frequently.  
> This is based off the plot from the movie, as I haven't read the book.  
> Please know the plot kinda faces some heavy changes to better fit the Witcher universe and characters. So it won't be an exact retelling of the story with just witcher characters, I want to make it something unique!
> 
> Also, Yennefer is not the bad guy in this story! Even though she is filling the role for the Witch of the Waste she is quite different. I will tolerate NO Yennefer hate. She is my strong beautiful magic queen. 
> 
> (also unbeta-d so ignore my egregious comma usage)


End file.
